


Up From The Bed Of The River

by Zarius



Category: Danger Mouse (Cartoon 2015), Danger Mouse (TV)
Genre: Dark Dawn (Danger Mouse)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 03:09:51
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18769996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zarius/pseuds/Zarius
Summary: His friends, his new family, they shall not betray him; they shall be his rock, just as he had been the rock for the one imperfect soul whom he had tried to give a perfect life to (tag for "Dark Dawn")





	Up From The Bed Of The River

The choice for them all was simple. Be Snuggles' friend.

They dismissed the invitation, mostly out of fear, some out of disinterest.

That was fine, thought Mr. Snuggles.

He didn't need the regular people and their regular problems. He could make his own friends. He wielded the power to make that happen.

The tiara on his head emitted bright crimson energy at anyone clutching a soft felt animal in their arms or at any toy store that kept them stacked upon their shelves.

Each blast breathed fresh breath into them; the same lifeblood that pumped through his cotton veins now moved them.

The energy channelled the resentment and hurt he was feeling at this precise moment, the urge to detach oneself from the tender connectivity between bear and being, shattering their bonds, and relying only on the strength and support of their own kind.

His friends, his new family, they shall not betray him; they shall be his rock, just as he had been the rock for the one imperfect soul whom he had tried to give a perfect life to. Unlike her though, he would not have such imperfections, he would not take them for granted.

These friends were like clay he had moulded, scooped up from the bed of a river, kneeling down into the dust and toiling over them, filling them with not just his great promises, but his concerns.

He wondered if he could ever give them a notion of care, of love, and of fulfilment. Would the temptation of his promise prove strong enough to sustain them all their days until they were well worn out ? Or would they grow tired of never having the sun or the moon in their grasp?

The promises of a mere poem, that was the legacy Dawn had left him with, and an obligation he had now to his army, only he had to make sure it wasn't just rhyme. It had to be reason.

The doubt in his mind would form part of their own cerebral profile, it would inform their behaviour, and they would know no other way of thinking unless he himself started seeing things in a more positive light.

It was at this moment he realised the truth.

He was still alone.


End file.
